


Seriously Sexy

by oceansinmychest



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Crack, Daddy kink mention, F/F, Smut, this is a joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceansinmychest/pseuds/oceansinmychest
Summary: When pleasing the Governor becomes SERIOUSLY sexy.





	Seriously Sexy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLexFiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLexFiles/gifts).



> Sometimes, you have to poke fun at yourself, but also @TheLexFiles inspired me to do this so I blame her. And my wine.

Everyone wants a happy ending, but alas! The author is a petty lesbian who can't have nice things. So, this is how the story begins – it's teased out. Maybe you get some angst where everyone dies. Pretentious, classical music fills the room since script writers associate an appreciation of the arts with textbook psychopathy.

A uniform line of pencils mirror some rich allegory that no one cares about. Governor Ferguson has just declined Miles' approval for a vacation to Nova Scotia (Smiles love that black market gambling, ayy).

There's a knock at the door to disrupt business as per usual. Joan looks up from the neat stack of papers, only too spy her deputy. Spider and fly are caught in a dyadic web. Google's this fic's best friend.

A mouse of a woman has begun her metamorphosis. These days, she's more sure of herself. Stands taller, stands prouder. Emulates the one in black – the one she _wants_ to be.

With an arch of a swagalicious, sexualized brow, Joan looks up from her work. For all you know, she could be playing solitaire on her brand, new mac.

"What is it, Vera?"

Miss Bennett's face scrunches up to signify her displeasure.

"You gave me a score of zero. A _zero_ out of **five** on our employee performance."

“You deserved iT” comes the nonchalant response.

“Excuse me?!” Vera asks, tone incredulous.

A knife-like tension cuts through the air. A WWE fight threatens to break out, but that cartoonish violence is too American so we'll get right to the point: that smut.

The petite woman meanders around the desk, rid of her doe-like innocence. In a subservient pose, she kneels before her maker – you wish you were her; you imagine you are her, but the Governor's verbose words won't stroke you so.

“No rewriTes,” Joan replies and sounds bored. She has important things to do like blackmail and psychosexual torture in accordance with social deviance.

You know, #Wentworththings.

Anyway, a thousand lines later, the smut begins. Trousers pool around Joan's ankle. One corner of her mouth twitches at the offense. Vera's a good girl. She folds them neatly. Her dry cleaning expert would be wonderfully proud. Off, the panties come.

“Ha.”

There's a laugh for no reason, because it's iconic and sexy.

And omg! Let's not get started about those vanta-black orbs that promise madness and chaos and Nietzche's abyss.

Lamb becomes wolf in another boring metaphor. God looks down on her creation for the sake of an exhaustion Biblical allusion. It's not supposed to make sense; that's the beauty of art.

Tongue, lips, and teeth please the Governor. In a smooth rhythm, sweet Vera bobs her head. She tastes her cunt. Fingers slip into the slick, wet heat without warning. Ever the submissive, she continues to please with her mouth. Worships an altar, because sociological symbols are profound.

And then, it happens. The climax is a slow build, slow burn AU, in which it takes 1000 chapters to build up to the monumental finish. So, it's not purposefully descriptive, because it's left up to the imagination, but you can imagine Vera's fingers deep inside and buried to the hilt.

A grunt transforms into a feral cry. This signifies the loss of conTrol that some indie singer called Halsey cries about all the time.

Daddy (CRIIIINGE, RIGHT?) cums buckets and it's great.

Thick, sticky fluids spill across Vera's cheeks, jaw, and mouth. With great enthusiasm, she laps it up. Drinks it in. Commits the taste to memory.

She's wet, too, but she puts her boss' needs before her own.

She'll take this to bed with her and rub-a-dub-dub.

Somehow, this connects to a punch of artistic references so there's a grand name drop.

The Governor tosses her head back. This is a special privilege reserved for far and few in-between. Needless to say, the deserving don't lose an eye, but gosh, who _wouldn't_ want to serve Miss Ferguson?

After cleaning up the mess with her tongue, Vera casts her expectant stare up at Joan.

“Will you rate me at a five now? Do I get an A?”

Joan spirals down from her high, ever domineering, even in the Governor's chair.

Wow, sexy.

“Hm... No.”

Daddy denies baby girl and everything ends on a cliffhanger.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the garbage. I've had to work on many assignments and review some submissions for editing today so I needed to laugh at myself. It's good to refrain from being serious from a change.


End file.
